An End To Madness
by Bringer Of Fears
Summary: The Protomateria embedded in Vincent's chest is rotting rapidly and Chaos threatens to break free. As Vincent searches for a cure, others he thought never cared aid him in his search. But are they too late?
1. Fade

_Vincent…._

_Vincent Valentine…_

_There's no point in ignoring me._

_…I'll always be here as a reminder of past sins._

_Sleep won't save you…_

Vincent tossed and turned amidst rotting crimson cushions, the confining mahogany of the coffin, creaking in protest.

Chaos' seducing promises and mind shattering threats made atonement difficult at best; rolling onto his back Vincent raised his claw. The brass glistened even in the morbid gloom and Vincent's eyes followed the curves of the metal, up to the deadly thorn like claws.

Raising the prosthetic further Vincent dug the sharpened fingers into the wood and gently slid the coffin lid to the floor. Sitting up in the chill dank air the ex-Turk raised a shaking hand of flesh to wipe away the beads of sweat.

Smoothing his unruly hair Vincent then put both hands on the edges of sanctuary and torture, and lifted sore and aching limbs into the small and chill chamber. Picking his cloak off the floor Vincent draped it around his shoulder in one fluid motion and buckled the cloak with practiced ease.

Carefully tiptoeing his way around the rotting remains of his coffins lesser brethren Vincent reached the door and opened it, revealing the vast maze of tunnels under the Shinra Manor. Walking through the caverns Vincent laid his hand over the slight lump in his chest, where the proto-materia lay pulsing, in place of his heart.

Shaking his head and dropping the wandering hand Vincent made his way to a spiralling staircase.

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The little town in the mountains was the same foreboding village he remembered, not a soul was to be seen in the early morning streets. No dogs barked, no drunk ambled and the natural sounds of the mountains were either muted or dead. The only sound Vincent could hear was his own light breathing and the slight shifts in the air as it circulated through the ranges.

Grey and non-descript housing flew past Vincent as his long strides soon carried him out of the grey town and into the shore of shale that marked the beginning of the long climb ahead.

Picking a rarely used and derelict path Vincent strode nimbly up the sharp angle and kept his footing even as the rocks slid down the trail.

Some minutes later the gunman was sitting on the edge of a vast cliff with leather clad legs dangling over the vast drop. Inhaling he sighed and the thumping headache in his head began to subside, closing his eyes to the chill wind blowing into his face Vincent enjoyed the lacy soft ice cooling his burning cheeks.

A low growl smashed the relative peace of the moment and he turned to observe a pack of grey wolves slowly prowling towards him. Turning back to the sun rising over the horizon Vincent carefully slid his hand onto the handle of Cerberus and waited with baited breath.

Pain suddenly lanced through him and the skin around the materia in his chest burned and sizzled, Chaos' wings bursting forth from his back, his arms and legs contorting into Chaos' form, small black scales pushing themselves up from under his skin and lastly his hair rising into the crown of thorns.

Blood dripped from the membranes of Chaos' wings and fell slowly to the frosty stone beneath; Chaos grinned manically and started to swing his legs back and forth against the cliff. The pack of the wolves growled louder, spreading themselves in a circle around the demon. Chaos then whipped his head around and the demon's mirthful golden eyes glowed eerily in the backdrop of the misty mountains.

The first two wolves pounced and chaos turned back to the view and grabbed both wolves out of the air in mid pounce, his long deadly claws embedding themselves into the chests of the canines. Before either wolf could utter a whimper Chaos smashed them simultaneously against the face of the cliff.

The rest of the pack took a step back, their lips curling up to reveal even more yellowed and sharp teeth. Dropping off the cliff Chaos unfurled his wings and used the updrafts of wind to lift him above the pack, seeing this the wolves started to back together, all eyes fixed fast on the deadly predator above.

Stretching out him arms the demon interlaced his fingers and worked out the kinks in his shoulders and arms, and with a smug smile, started his massacre.

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Head spinning Vincent struggled to sit up, and instead, gave up opted for the easier task of waiting for his blurred vision to clear. Red, the deep colour covered the stone and sniffing he noticed the metallic tang covering himself and the plateau.

The morbid curiosity and dread in Vincent made him push himself off the ground and face the carnage. If Vincent didn't have a heightened sense of smell and didn't know before hand, he wouldn't of known that the fleshy pieces of pulp littering the ground were wolves.

Working with the Turks for as long as he did had desensitised him, and seeing the carnage didn't make his stomach flip and he felt no need to retch. However, his brow knotted, what if it had been a group of people? Hadn't he murdered enough innocents already?

Rising Vincent was unsteady on his feet but managed to make his way back down to the decayed trail, the sun now set high in the sky took the chill and mist out of the air.

Vincent while walking looked down to see blood covering him from head to toe, and parting the straps covering his chest Vincent looked at the part of his body that sent streams of pain cascading through his body. The materia had lost its comforting warm glow and was instead replaced by a faint emanating light escaping the sphere. Swearing under his breath Vincent crept through Nibleheim's small houses, wafts of smoke coming from the chimneys of all but some houses, and without being noticed, crept towards Shinra manor.

Pushing the large rusted gates open Vincent walked past the weathered old fountain that no longer poured forth the crystal water as it did over 30 years ago, past the long dead rose bushes and up the small set of stairs leading to the large wooden doors.

Opening them without thought Vincent walked inside and up the weather and time damaged grand staircase and to the only working bathroom in the house. Down the right corridor and to the fourth door Vincent opened the door and walked in.

Vincent was careful to avoid the shards of the mirror lying on the dusty floor and discarded himself of his garments; leaving them on the floor Vincent stepped into the bath and turned the gold taps to the overhead shower to unleash a cold torrent of water to flow onto his head.

Looking down at his hands he saw congealed deep red, almost black blood staining his human hand and claw.

With disgust and aggravation Vincent started to scrub his cold monstrous arm, the dried blood flaking off to be washed down the plughole, with that for the most part done, Vincent started on his human hard scrubbing at it, only to slip and slash the top of his hand with one of the razor fingertips.

Snorting his nose with irritation Vincent continued to cleanse himself and stopped at the inflamed and bleeding skin that surrounded the blue piece of lifestream. Lip curling at the sight Vincent's anger bubbled and composure broken Vincent slammed his mechanical arm into the wall tiles.

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Scrubbing the bar Tifa sighed.

Cloud had been gone on a long delivery for over a week now and her life was now a normal one, of looking after kids and tending to her bar Seventh Heaven, the most exciting thing now was a drunken fight in the bar, the occurrences of which were rare.

The regulars knew that to start a fight was to end up sprawled on the sidewalk with a splitting headache and a black eye.

Tifa however had enough time to keep in touch with everyone, visiting them on the odd occasion, well all except for one.

The recluse of the group, the mysterious man Vincent Valentine, was the only one she hadn't heard from since the Deep Ground incident. She presumed he was fine, he was a powerful ex-Turk after all and she knew was very capable of looking after himself.

Or so her rational side and friends told her. She couldn't not worry about the man, her motherly side wouldn't allow it and as much as the others didn't quite get along with the anti-social man she had developed a soft spot for him, for reasons unknown even to herself.

Dwelling on these thoughts Tifa stopped scrubbing the bar and bit her thumbnail, casting a glance to the stairs leading to the phone upstairs. There was no reason not to visit him, after all Barrett could look after Marlene and Denzel for a few days and she could get a lift from Cid.

She was sure the foul mouthed pilot would also like to see Cid seeing how they both got on relatively well during their time travelling to save the world. Perhaps she could attribute it to the fact that both men were fairly antisocial and lacked the skills to ever be social.

Nodding to herself Tifa stopped chewing on her nail and made her way to the stairs and to make the calls required. Walking over to the table she glanced at their group photo, her eyes shifting over to look at Cloud.

Cloud…

She hadn't even considered calling him to say she was going to be visiting Vincent; she had no idea when he would be back so she presumed she would have to.

Sighing she picked up the phone and cradled it between her ear and shoulder while she dialled Barrett's number.

"Hey Barrett, it's me Tifa."

"_Yo how's it going Tif', wacha need?_

"If you could Barrett, would you mind looking after the kids for a few days?"

"_Shit no problem Tifa, it's about time I got up there to see my girl again I'll be there by the day after tomorrow!"_

"Thanks Barrett, see you then."

With that she pressed the button for the receiver and dialled Cid's number.

Tifa started to fiddle with the curled phone line, twisting calloused but elegant fingers between the loops of the cord while waiting for Cid to pick up.

When the phone was finally answered she was greeted with a string of profanities.

"_Who the fuck is phoning me now. Fuck it's always when I'm working my god damned ass off!"_

Fighting back a smile Tifa fidgeted and repositioned the phone in the crook it was in.

"Sorry Cid, but if you're not too busy could you give me a lift to Nibleheim?"

"_Going to visit old vampy eh? Well fine then I'll give you a lift. I'm not as busy as I sound, in fact I'm bored to titty-fuck here."_

"Why am I not surprised? Thanks Cid, bye."

Pushing the receiver gently for the last time, Tifa took a deep breath and dialled Cloud's number.

_This is Cloud. Leave a message, and I'll try to get back to you._

Frowning Tifa took the phone in her hand and left her message:

" Hey Cloud its Tifa, I'm going to be out for a few days, so I'll see you later."

With that Tifa put down the phone for the last time and walked up stairs to her room to pack. In a few days time she was going to head off to see Vincent, and she wouldn't have to worry anymore, for a while at least.

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AN: Thanks for reading the first chapter of the story. I hope you enjoyed it and please leave a review. Extra luffles go out to those who leave constructive criticism.

For example tell me if you think I skipped around too much such as leaving the wolf massacre and going straight to Vincent without describing it? D:

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the characters/worlds etc that I write about in this story and they are property of their respective owners.


	2. Tag

The Highwind landed with a light bump on the barren ground of the Nibleheim range. Rocks scattered and tumbled at the disturbance and fiends skittered away from the bright lights of the air ship. The lights were cut and the engine stopped its comforting growl, and with a last, light whoosh the doors descended to the ground.

Tifa stepped out into the night and with a groan stretched her back, popping random vertebrae in her spine. A glow and a smell of cigarettes came down to meet her, Cid cursed the chill of the mountains and then promptly dropped Tifas luggage on the edge of her toes. Cid readjusted the backpack he had slung on one shoulder and started the long walk down to the little village. Tifa picked up her brown suitcase and followed suit; walking next to Cids lengthy strides and keeping the companionable silence that the two held for each other. The town below was a small bowl of stars nestled in the mountain ranges; small columns of smoke rose into the air and gave the mountains an edge of a spicy fragrance.

Tifa frowned at the memories that the dark village gave, in her mind it burned with the flesh of her friends and families, the soil was drenched with the blood of Sephiroth's victims, but most of all, it reminded her of better days. Days spent in the mountains with Cloud, his promise to make her proud and become a first class SOLDIER, to come back to her and live together in fame and tranquillity, unlike the one she now had which was marred with sorrow and bitter feelings.

Noticing Cid a few metres ahead, Tifa picked up her pace and caught up to the pilot who was puffing at his cigarette. The town was now only minutes away and a cold breeze stirred the imminent buildings doorways and windows. Making their way into the town the visitors picked their way around the houses and found the derelict inn.

Cid swung open the door and made his way over to the counter, his heavy boots clumped noisily on the wooden floor, Tifa quickly caught the door before the wind slammed it and made her way up to Cid at the counter.

The barman was a short middle aged man with a protruding stomach that hung over the belt of his trousers, and he turned his small brown eyes to the two strangers.

"So what can I get for you two?"

Cid paused the sucking of his cigarette and said "2 rooms, 2 meals and 2 drinks of whatevers going."

Turning the barman took 2 silver keys off the hooks on the wall and threw them onto the counter. Cid pocketed one and passed the other to Tifa, turning again to the barman as he slid two heavy tankards of beer to them.

"The food tonight is spiced potatoes and sausages, anything else?"

Cid shook his head and put half of the required gil on the counter, Tifa rummaged in her black coat pockets until she found her purse and then copied Cid.

Grabbing the drinks Cid made his way over to a small round table next to the spitting fire. Both fighters eagerly sat down and both drained their drinks within minutes. Tifa looked around the small inn, her brown eyes scanning the patrons and sparse features of the room. Two men sat hunched over a table; slowly sipping their drinks, a drunk was snoring gently in a corner and two other male patrons sat on either ends of the bar.

The bar was uncharacteristically quiet for a usual stereotypical village tavern, all that could be heard was the snore from the drunk, the wet sound of the dish rag being dragged across the counter, the fire and the soft murmur of conversation coming from the two hunched men closest to them.

Listening into their conversation Tifa began to pick up what they were saying.

"Did you hear about Sean's girl?"

The other shook his head and leaned in closer

"Well she was poking around that big ol' manor up towards the top of town and she thought she heard something moving around in there."

The other man scratched his beard and leaned in closer

"So what was she doing around there anyways?"

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well they've been having money troubles right? I suppose she would have been mooching around for something of value to pawn off."

The bearded one nodded sagely and pointed at the other man

"Speaking of strange occurrence, have you heard about that wolf massacre up on the plateau?"

The other nodded and gulped down the rest of his flagon.

"I heard it was a big nasty fiend up in the mountains. As long as it doesn't come down here it's doing us a favour, those Nible wolves are always picking off our pets or travellers."

The other smirked and lifted his drink

"Amen to that."

A loud clunk and an aroma of spiced potatoes and sausage brought Tifa back to her senses and her stomach growled at the prospect of the meal. Cid on the other side of the table had already started his dinner; the noisy clattering of his utensils brought the attentions of the other patrons. Each one turned bleary eyed to Cid and noticed for the first time the strangers present. Tifa blushed and looked down into her meal, the steam from it creating a pleasant warmth on her cheeks. Picking up her knife and fork Tifa tucked in, relishing in the bland but filling meal. Fifteen minutes passed and Cid stood up to leave, smothering a yawn with his hand in the process.

"See you in the morning Tif's."

Waving a good bye to him Tifa watched the flickering fire and listened for any conversation that might be started from the two previous men. Looking up at the clock above the bar Tifa read the time as ten past two. Rubbing her eyes Tifa shook her head and rose from the table, grabbing her suitcase and making slow progress up the long flight of stairs that led to the guest rooms. Walking down the corridor Tifa examined the red tag attached to her key, it read number three, and she walked to the appropriate room.

Tifa inserted the key into the large hole and unlocked the door to her small room and put her suitcase down next to the single bed. Not bothering to get changed Tifa sat on the edge of her bed and removed her long black coat and shoes. Standing back up Tifa threw back the heavy yellow covers and slid in. Sleep hit her before her head had even hit the pillow.

--

Tifa tucked her hands under armpits as she waited outside in the cold for Cid. They had agreed on the flight over to wake up at about 6:30am and see Vincent, but as usual Cid seemed to have conveniently forgotten. Pouting Tifa tucked her coat closer around her body and leaned against the thick wood of the inn. Just as Tifa thought she would head off without him, Cid appeared beside her and was popping a cigarette into his mouth. The creases on her forehead deepened as she scowled at Cids slow progress to light a match in the frigid breeze.

Finally the match was alight and Cid lit the smoke.

"Are we ready now?" Tifa said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Yeah sure." Cid said as he exhaled the first bout of grey smoke. Tifa shook her head and marched at a quick pace, Cid however easily kept up, annoying her further. Soon the Shinra manor loomed overhead. Decaying curtains were hung up in front of all the windows, the garden was in shambles with weeds making their way across the paths and fences, the old fountain had crumbled into a pile of stone and all of these features of decay accentuated the heavy and morbid atmosphere that clung to the place like a shroud.

"Cheery and pleasant as usual." Was Cids cynical remark upon seeing the mansion.

"Yeah I suppose it is." Said Tifa as she opened the rusted ornate gates, making them sceech loudly and the companions cringe. The two walked together up the path and stairs and opening the grand doors they stepped into the entry hall. Tifa sneezed as their presence disturbed the delicate balance of collected dust that had accumulated all around.

Rubbing her eyes Tifa murmured under her breath "Ugh, I hope my sinuses don't start playing up on me."

"Well where should we start?" said Cid as he started wandering around the entrance hall, the floorboards creaking and groaning under his weight.

"Vincent!" shouted Cid, "Vincent! Where the hell are you, you morbid shit!" pausing his barrage Cid sucked at his cigarette and picked up where he started.

--

Turning in his coffin Vincent's sensitive hearing picked up the presence of two people traipsing about in the entrance hall. Vincent sniffed the air delicately and began to pick up the scent of cigarette smoke, and the more subtle fragrance of perfume and leather intertwined with each other. Treasure hunters, was Vincent's first thought until he heard the obscenities and the colourful variations of his nicknames and names. Groaning Vincent massaged his temples with his human hand. This could not be happening. Why now? Of all the inconvenient times. Fate he thought must love toying with him, giving him the worst-case scenario every possible time. Hunching down in his coffin Vincent thought about just hiding in here, and letting them think he was out. Dismissing the thought he sighed and pushed the lid of the coffin aside, getting out Vincent strode across to the door and made his slow progress through the caverns onto the ground level of the mansion.

The shouting became louder as he approached and under it he could hear Tifa's worried utterings to Cid.

"Cid, shut up! You know there could be fiends in here! Cid! Listen to me!"

"Tifa, worry less, if Vincent is here there won't be any fiends, he woulda killed 'em all."

Cid looked up to the balcony overlooking the hall and his sky blue eyes locked onto the wiry form of Vincent.

"Ain't that right." Cid shouted up to Vincent.

Nodding confirmation Vincent made his way down the stairs and to the members of AVALANCHE.

Tifa's face split into a broad smile and she walked up to meet Vincent. The urge to embrace the stoic man was strong but Tifa restrained herself knowing his displeasure at such things, instead she put her hands behind her back and smiled up at him.

"What is it that you want Tifa?"

Her smile fell and she took a tentative step back. Suddenly feeling like a silly and chastised child Tifa licked her lips and looked up into his crimson eyes.

"I just wanted to see how you were."

Her reasoning as solid as it was, sounded hollow and frivolous at best, even to her. She inwardly cringed at the thoughts that would cross Vincent's mind at the pathetic answer.

Dodging the answer Vincent questioned again "No more DeepGround incidences then? No remnants, or something of the sort?"

Shaking her head Tifa looked to Cid for help, Cid merely shrugged his shoulders in response and Tifa rolled her eyes, exasperated at his uselessness.

"Nothings wrong Vincent, we were just seeing how you were."

Vincent opened his mouth to respond but Tifa hurriedly continued to cut him off.

"I was just getting worried with the no contact. I tried to ring your cell but it was turned off…"

Raising a delicate brow Vincent fished the phone out of a pocket on his leg and handed it silently to Tifa. A look of confusion swept over her features but she took the proffered phone out of the leather-clad hand. Flipping it open Tifa tried to turn it on with no success.

"It ran out of battery."

Tifa looked up in disbelief at the ex-Turk.

"And you didn't think to charge it?"

Shaking his head Vincent took back the phone and replaced it in his pocket.

"It's been months Vincent, and I mean no offence when I say this, but you don't exactly look too busy. So wouldn't you have time to…"

Vincent crossed his arms and looked down at Tifa, his unsettling eyes boring into Tifa.

"I have my own problems to deal with."

Cid who had been left out of the exchange took a step forward and shook his head, looking down at the floorboards.

"Then let us help dumb ass, ain't that what friends are for?"

Vincent turned to Cid and took his time to stare him down. This was broken however when Cid spat out his cigarette and smothered the spark of it with his boot, muttering under his breath the short life of the smoke.

"This is something that I handle alone."

Cid snorted at the comment and Tifa looked up at the ceiling in resignation.

"Vincent, please tell us what's wrong, we want to help you." Said Tifa, then smiling she added: "Cid's right, that's what friends are for."

Vincent turned his back on the two and started to climb the steps of the hall and stopped briefly on his ascent.

"I don't need friends, nor have I had any."

With that Vincent walked off into the abyss of the manor, the last vestiges of his presence were gone as his cape fluttered around the corner.

Tifa's mouth hung slightly agape and Cid's only comment was: "Bloody cheek."

Tifa turned away from Cid and the staircase saying

"I thought that at least we were friends, comrades even….after all we've been through too."

Hearing the hurt in her voice Cid laid a hand on her shoulder and shook it roughly.

"Hey now, you didn't think Vinny here would be getting all sentimental and choked up because we visited did ya? He's still the same cold bastard he's always been and to let that get to you shows that you're getting soft in your old age Tif'."

Absorbing what Cid said Tifa turned around with a smile shoving Cid in the chest playfully.

"Excuse me Mr. Highwind, me old? Look who's talking." Tifa finished the jab with a smug smirk and a triumphant crossing of the arms.

With a slight chuckle Cid said, "That's more like it. Now lets go get the _really _old bastard and drag him out of his bat cave."

Vincent had made quick time traversing the corridors and catacombs of the manor. He hoped that his stinging remarks had smothered any wishes of seeing him at present, or at any time in the future. Vincent reasoned though that it could have been worse, if it had been Yuffie or Barret as unlikely as that would be, he might have been tempted on giving Chaos what he wanted. Reaching out for the door leading to his coffin, Vincent swiftly opened it and stepped inside, closing it just as quickly after him. Vincent walked over to an empty and overturned coffin residing next to his and sat down on it, staring at the decaying interior of his own. A sudden burning sensation in his chest made him flinch and grapple at his cloak and leather straps covering his chest.

Pulling the offending articles away Vincent stared at the stark contrast of the red of his blood to the alabaster of his skin. Streams of the copper smelling substance ran down his chest and began to drip onto the stone of the underground. Vincent examined the flesh surrounding the protomateria; it was red and sensitive, rubbed raw. The materia itself was far more disturbing; the once bright blue of the stone was wavering and waning in turn. The inner light was no longer a consistent pulse but a staggering flicker, a remnant of what it once was. It was then, that Chaos' presence subtly bled into his mind.

_Host…Vincent Valentine. That materia isn't going to work for much longer. It's not providing enough sustenance anymore. _

Vincent shook his head and began to pant and put his head into his hands as the pain and burning sensation intensified.

"Wha-, what do you mean?"

_Mean? Are you really that idiotic not to know what I mean. Oh you are laughable Valentine, truly laughable. _

Ignoring the demon's jibes Vincent ripped off a tatter of his cape and used it to staunch the flow of the increasing amount of blood coming from the wound. A curse was issued from Vincent and his usually stoic mask was broken as worry and pain knitted his brow. He could feel the demon inside him becoming restless and the fight for the dominance of his body beginning. Vincent's thoughts went out to the two people in the mansion and memories of the massacred wolves quickly followed, showing a possible end result if he let Chaos win. A red mist-like glow began to collect around his body, and his eyes began to glow a deep gold; precursors of a full transformation into Chaos.

Chaos' insane laughter bubbled up in his mind, and Vincent gripped his head with his prosthetic, keeping the rag of his cape on the bleeding materia. The bronze claws dug deep into his scalp and new wounds began to bleed, as the headache intensified. Footsteps echoed in the corridors outside and Vincent looked up with dismay, digging his claws even deeper into his scalp with frustration. Grimacing at the pain and demon, Vincent managed to stand despite the assaults made on his body and he weakly made his way to the door and drew across the heavy deadlock.

Grunting Vincent slid down the door and concentrated on banishing Chaos to the recesses of his mind. His headache grew into a pain associated with fighting the demon, and it stabbed at his brain. It was like a migraine but far worse, it felt that someone was physically stabbing his brain with a needle. He could almost imagine Hojo being the one viciously stabbing his exposed brain with a hypodermic needle, grey matter sticking to the sharp metal and black blood seeping from the ragged holes.

A knock above his head resonated in the chamber he was in and Vincent began to concentrate even harder on the dismissing of the demon.

"Oi, you in there" came Cid's harsh voice, adding another stab to Vincent's pain in his head. The brass doorknob above him began to twist back and forth in an attempt to open it despite the lock.

With a final mental push Vincent forced Chaos away, the demon roaring in frustration at his defeat. Quickly standing up Vincent's head spun and he had to reach out to the door to steady himself, Cid began to bang on the door, and Tifa's worried voice floated in.

"Vincent are you alright in there? Just tell us if you want us to leave, but we do want to help you Vincent. Please let us in."

Stepping away from the door Vincent moved his hand away from the bleeding of his chest. Hissing in pain Vincent pulled away parts of the ripped cloak that had stuck and found purchase in the wound. The red of his cape had been dyed an even deeper colour and Vincent quickly stowed away the scrap in a small coffin to his left. Hurriedly refastening the belts Vincent covered the protomateria and made his face into his usual emotionless mask and ignored the pain of refastening his bindings. The banging during this time had continued and dust and small splinters now started to accumulate on the floor. Undoing the lock and opening the door Vincent swiftly stepped back as Cid stumbled in, the door no longer supporting his weight.

"Didn't you hear me banging on that god damned door Vincent? You deaf now or something'?"

Shaking his head Vincent discreetly wiped away the veneer of sweat that had formed on his face during his struggles. Tifa however, noticed the speedily done act and gave Vincent an inquiring look, tilting her head as she did so.

Vincent looked away and as he did so he noticed the pool of blood as well as the drips of it, making a trail to the door. Blanching inwardly Vincent cursed his foolishness at not remembering to remove these details. If they saw these telltale signs they would never leave.

Stepping around Tifa and Cid and into the tunnels, Vincent hoped that they would not notice the blood as they followed him out.

Cid spun around and chased after Vincent calling out to him to explain and stop, as well as calling the possessed man several insulting names.

Tifa was about to follow until in the corner of her eye she noticed a small blot of red on the ground.

"Tifa!" Running out the door Tifa forgot about the crimson spot on the floor and instead hurried off in pursuit of the summoning Cid and escaping Vincent.

--

AN: Sorry I could resist the Batman analogy there, if you picked it up. Also please tell me if you think someone is out of character and how. If you could please also tell me if I make conversations awkward to read or something. This is my first fanfic and critique would help a lot.

Also thanks to my reviewers and all those that put this story on alert etc. I'm also really sorry about the huge gap in updates. School killed my free time. (

Song listened to during the writing of this chapter Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. Hoorah.


	3. Burden

Vincent's tattered red cape flew through the corridors of the Shinra Manor as Tifa and Cid hurried to keep up.

Vincent frowned and sighed quietly to himself, what on earth was he doing? Where was he even leading them? With a subtle shake of his head Vincent banished these thoughts and decided on a destination.

Slowing his pace Vincent allowed Tifa and Cid to catch up to him. Cid puffed with exertion and stopped briefly, leaning against the banister of the grand foyers stairs "Shit Vincent, I didn't know you were so fond of tag."

With a shaking hand Cid rummaged around in the pocket of his denim flight jacket, eventually withdrawing his pack of smokes and matches. Vincent slowly walked down the grand stairs, his metal boots made the burdened wood groan and the tatters of his cape slipped down the stairs after him.

Tifa however stood next to Cid and her brows pinched together with concern. Cid wasn't overly old, but he wasn't making the aging process easier on himself. Increasingly the pilot was becoming short of breath and his confident hands shook with a weakness that was foreign to the female fighter. Cid's hands fumbled with the slight wood of the match and the red tip refused to ignite despite the mans attempts.Momentarily glancing up from his infuriating labour Cid noticed Tifa's chocolate eyes swimming with concern.

Blushing despite himself Cid threw the unlit match away and stowed the cigarettes in his pocket. Shaking his head Cid walked past Tifa "I don't need you worrying about me Tifa, do that and you'll get even more wrinkles." A feeble attempt at a smile curved Tifa's lips and she followed Cid down the rotting stairs and to the waiting Vincent.

Vincent had his eyes trained on the two as they walked down the stairs, and pushing himself away from the wall he was leaning on, he crossed his arms as they reached him. Turning, Vincent threw open the doors to the manor and stepped outside.

A thick moistness clung to the air outside and looking up Vincent perceived tumultuous dark clouds, heavy and low hanging with rain in their bellies. The other members of AVALANCHE followed suit and both looked up at the leaden sky. Wordlessly Vincent continued on his passage to the gloomy hamlet with the other two ghosting behind him, equally silent.

Windows framed pale faces as the comrades walked by homes, some faces turned away, whilst others frowned and yet more quitted their gawking from behind the windows, as their eyes grew wide with something akin to fright. Turning to each other Cid and Tifa relayed silent inquiries and questions. Again Cid shrugged and turned away from the woman, tightening his cream scarf as a buffer to the wet chill.

Soon Vincent came to a stop in front of the lonesome inn of the town and walked inside, not turning to see if the others were following. The same man from early that morning stood boredly at the counter, and using a grey dishcloth he scrubbed the interior of a metal tankard, the sloshing of foam and dishwater was easily heard by the three fighters.

Hearing the footsteps intrude on the thick silence, the portly man turned and uttered a frightened gasp as his small squinty eyes beheld the caped form before him. Vincent merely met this reception with a roll of his eyes, and reaching for the pouch attached to his belt, Vincent emptied a few large pieces of Gil onto the greasy counter. Immediately the bar mans persona changed from one of fright to one of welcoming hospitality.

The mans podgy little fingers dragged the pieces towards himself and his lips peeled away to reveal small yellowing teeth. "A glass of red wine and whatever the two behind me wish," said Vincent in a low murmur, the man disgusted him, and he also brought Vincent back to the fact that these people were once under the employ of Shinra.

Quickly taking the glass of wine, Vincent left his companions at the bar and he sat down on a small rickety chair, contemplating on which direction he wished events to transpire in.

Cid was the first to rejoin Vincent; in his hand he grasped a large tankard of dark beer. Soon after Tifa joined the gathered men with a beer in her hand also, though this one was closer to a honey brown colour. For the first couple of minutes an awkward silence was met only with the sound of drinks being lifted to lips and then being placed back down on the slick surface of the table. Cid periodically looked at Tifa from the corner of his eye, urging the woman to break the silence.

With nonchalance Cid shrugged as his silent plea went unfulfilled and withdrew once again his packs of cigarettes and matches. Abandoning his drink, Cid's full attention went to lighting the head of the match. Tifa looked on at this act with impartial eyes, her mind far away. Vincent however watched on with penetrating crimson eyes, and they zoned in on the small sparks being produced.

Vincent could hear with great clarity the match head being dragged across the rough surface of the box, could hear the small flutter of heat come to life and die nanoseconds later, and smell the small wafts of smoke. Vincent's eyebrow twitched, as with a grating slowness Cid attempted to light the wood, the pilot meanwhile was completely oblivious to the breaking mask of Vincent's composure.

As an adder strikes out at a rat Vincent's hand invaded Cid's field of vision as the usually stoic man snatched away both match and box in one fluid motion, and a second later the match was struck and the box was flung back to Cid. Cid's mouth was agape as he witnessed the act, and with a slow cautious hand he reached out for the proffered match, and grasping it he held the small flame to the end of his cigarette. Tifa was in a similar state of shock.

Rarely had she seen Vincent loose his temper, and what she had just seen was completely uncharacteristic of him.

Reproachfully and yet submissively, Tifa gave Vincent a pointed look conveying her worry. Vincent turned away from the two and breaking the silence Tifa said: "Vincent, something is the matter. Please tell us."

Ignoring Tifa, Vincent reached out for the glass of red wine on the table, and he lifted it to his moist lips. The cheap wine flowed down his throat and the taste of fermented grapes lingered in his mouth as a sour after taste.

Casting aside the urge to flinch at the taste, Vincent opted instead to meet Tifa's eyes. This time however Tifa did not look away from the stern gaze of Vincent, but met it head on with her own stare, conveying once again, her determination to find out the problem and allay it.

Eventually giving up, Tifa cradled her forehead and looking down she studied the grains of the table, she could feel her anger swelling and she knew she would have to assuage it before trying to get Vincent to talk once again. It did one no good to argue with the stubborn cool headed man in the midst of a passion. Cid watched as the events unfolded before him, taking long deep draughts of the cigarette he was smoking.

"Vincent you miserable shit, just tell the lady what the fuck crawled up your ass, alright. The sooner the better." Cid said this whilst cradling his cigarette with his molars, making everything he said slightly slurred and with poor enunciation.

Once again Vincent didn't acknowledge that Cid had spoken, and the ex-Turk once again sipped at his wine, briefly closing his eyes during the motion. Slowly, Vincent placed the glass back onto the round table and he regarded the two before him in turn. Resting his human hand on the table Vincent played with the stem of the wine glass, nimbly twisting and rotating the cheap glass on the table.

Narrowing his eyes slightly Vincent parted his lips and gave careful consideration to what he was about to say: "Tifa, Cid. I appreciate that you worry about me, but such fret is unheeded as there is nothing you can do to help me repent for my sins."

The lie stung Vincent. He valued his honour, or what was left of it, and lying certainly marred the vestiges of it. For his current problem lay not with the repenting of past sins (though this particular issue would consume his immortal life span), but with Chaos. To let the members of AVALANCHE know of such a malady would spell unwelcome visitors and a further culmination of irritations and headaches.

Plus they didn't care enough to help him, of that Vincent was sure. They would indeed help for a few months, perhaps a year or so, but eventually they would abandon him to his fate, and dispose of the demon Chaos when it broke free. It's what AVALANCHE did best, the disposing of monsters such as himself.

Breaking away from his brooding, Vincent gauged the reactions of the two before him; both wore expressions of suspicion and doubt. A small growl threatened to bubble up, but masking the growl as a clearing of his throat Vincent added further rebuke to his proclamation. "Really, there is no issue with me. I will pay for both your lodgings and for the fuel to your airship Cid. You can both return-"

Vincent paused his verbal assault as he felt the protomateria in his chest palpitate. It was the oddest of sensations, and stood as further testament that the protomateria truly was a replacement heart. Vincent's hand of flesh snaked up his chest to grip the leather straps that covered the ball of lifestream. Vincent willed his hand to let go but the pain assuaging him froze the hand in place.

The tavern went deadly quiet and the barman looked up from wiping the counter, his eyes widened, and he pretended that he hadn't seen the red caped man struggling to keep his breathing even. The leather that Vincent held onto whined under the ferocious grip, and Vincent struggled not to cry out as the sphere in his chest fried his flesh.

Blood began to flow onto Vincent's abdomen and soon, large beads of blood began to pour onto Vincent's legs, creating a pattering noise. Tifa and Cid gazed on with horrific affixation at what was transpiring, and after their moment of delay sprang into action. Cid spat out his cigarette and pushed back his chair, sending it crashing to the floor, and stepping towards the cringing man the pilot grabbed his arms, effectively pulling away Vincent's hands.

Meanwhile Tifa took the opportunity to find the source of Vincent's pain, and grasping the slick bloodied leather Tifa pulled it apart to reveal the embedded protomateria. A horrified gasp tore itself from Tifa's throat, her eyes widening at the sight, but before she could stare for much longer another large stream of blood bubbled up from the cavity surrounding the materia.

Quickly turning, Tifa's eyes scanned the nearby area for something to staunch the flow, her hazelnut eyes found Cid's cream scarf and she hastily seized the garment. Whipping back round Tifa pressed the scarf against the wound, and Vincent hissed as pressure was applied. The scarf soon became drenched in Vincent's warm lifeblood, and Cid was struggling to keep Vincent's arms still.

_Vincent, now do you see? That the protomateria is running out. And without it, what can you do to stop my rebirth?_

The proclamation was followed by insane burbling laughter that made Vincent's ears ring. The struggle between man and demon manifested itself with Vincent scrunching up his eyes even further and a red vapor began to collect around Vincent's form. Oh how the ex-Turk wished he was by himself, somewhere far away where he could grip his head and howl in his agony with no witnesses.With wide eyes Tifa and Cid looked helplessly to each other, both were alarmed and at a complete loss at what to do.

Glancing up at Vincent's face, Tifa watched as his features contorted with pain, and at fluctuations an intense determination also shone through. Soon however the struggles stopped, and Vincent's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body went limp. Supporting the suddenly slack man Cid let out a shaky breath of relief, and watched as Tifa readjusted the sodden scarf. Reaching a hand up to rest her hand against her racing heart Tifa cleared her throat and looked up into Cid's face.

"Take him upstairs to rest…" that was all Tifa could manage, as her voice wavered and died, even as she spoke those few words. Nodding his assent to Tifa's suggestion Cid lifted Vincent out of the small chair and he cradled Vincent on his shoulder, careful not to irritate the exposed wound. Tifa was frozen in place as she watched Cid climb the small set of stairs to the rooms above, even now small drips of blood made trails down Cid's back and some spattered onto the grimy floor of the inn.

To see the powerful man in such a state shook Tifa to the core. He was the depnedable one, the unbreakable one, and the one who always knew what to do. The supporting stone the team often rested upon. Raising her shaking hands Tifa examined the sticky red blood that was rapidly congealing on her skin and beneath her nails.

Horror assailed her anew and she sank into the chair she previously occupied. Her eyes wandered the unoccupied scene, they registered Cid's fallen chair, the dying embers of the nearby fire and her eyes traced the droplets of blood that gleamed like rubies. The picture was broken and time seemed to tick once again as the patter of rain smacked against the windowpanes, and a slow sombre rumble signalled a catalytic storm.

Tifa's hands formed into fists, and she shook her head at her foolishness, causing her brown locks to fall about in disarray. This was no time to mope; she needed to tend to Vincent's wounds. Standing, Tifa was founded by a new, resilient energy, that made her flight up the stairs agile and the gathering of medical supplies from her bag hasty.

Her energy however, dampened as she stood outside the impassive wooden door to Cid's room. Tifa's grip tightened on the soft bandages she held in her hand, and pushing open the door she stepped past the threshold and into the morose room.

Vincent lay on the bed, his wild black mane surrounded his pale peaceful face, and his shining lips were slightly parted. Approaching the sentinel figure of Cid, Tifa crouched down next to the bed and lay down the bandages and gauze on the wooden floor next to her. Picking up the gauze, Tifa gently applied it to the open wound, causing small bubbles of blood to push themselves up past the forming scabs.

Cid watched on with a weary eye as Tifa continued to apply more gauze, and then a few minutes later, long strips of white bandages that shone in the darkness.

Standing up from her work Tifa looked to the silent Cid, and brushing past him she made her way to the small sink in Cid's room. Twisting the tap, Tifa relished in the cold water spilling onto her hands, and procuring a bar of soap Tifa began to scrub away the blood that stained her skin.

Slowly, Vincent roused himself from his unconscious state, and his ears picked up on the noise of running water and the rain outside. Breathing deeply Vincent noticed the way in which his skin pulled during the action, and feeling his exposed chest he felt the soft cotton of bandages. Despair, so deep hit Vincent that it felt as if he had plummeted off a precipice. How could he let the others see such a moment of weakness? Truly, as he had prophesied, they would haunt him for weeks now.

The creak of the tap being turned and approaching footsteps, caused Vincent to open his world-weary eyes. Two figures shrouded in gloom crooned over him, and Vincent's claw tightened reflexively as memories of lab tables and scalpels pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind. Vincent blinked and some of the gloom dissipated revealing the despondent faces of Tifa and Cid.

Issuing a dramatic sigh Cid dragged over a three-legged stool and sat down heavily with a grunt. Cid watched dejectedly as Vincent sat up to examine the bandages clinging to his chest, and making eye contact Vincent looked to the window, in apparent fascination at the brewing storm.

Rubbing at the stubble of his chin, Cid took a deep breath through his nostrils, picking up on the various smells of the old tavern, which were inclusive of dust, rot and stale air. "So" Cid started, "are you going to tell us what's wrong now?"

* * *

AN: Wow, I am so sorry at the huge gap in updates! School is horrible, and is progressively becoming more important as the HSC looms. However, thanks to you reviewers the story is being updated once again.

Also please tell me if I linger too much on the smaller details, and by doing so make the story boring! Constructive criticism and reviews are always loved. :3 Also if someone can tell me how can I do 1.5 spacing or something, that would be great as I am aware that this looks like a huge chunk of text.

P.S Cid is Batman. Lulz, enunciation, go to youtube and type in "The Dark Knight spoof interrogation", it made me laugh and was part inspiration of Cid in this chapter. xD


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